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Monkhouse, one of my Midshipmen, was once in a Merchant Ship which Sprung a Leak, and made 48 Inches Water per hour; but by this means was brought home from Virginia to London with only her proper crew; to him I gave the direction of this, who executed it very much to my satisfaction. Thursday, 14th. P.M., had a Gentle breeze at South-East by East.
Mr Banks, whose humanity kept him two days with this poor Indian, returned to the town on the 30th, and the fits of his intermittent, which was now become a regular tertian, were so violent as to deprive him of his senses while they lasted, and leave him so weak that he was scarcely able to crawl down stairs: At this time, Dr Solander's disorder also increased, and Mr Monkhouse, the surgeon, was confined to his bed.
One afternoon, however, he was descending the stairs when, just as he was passing it, Bellingham's door flew open, and young Monkhouse Lee came out with his eyes sparkling and a dark flush of anger upon his olive cheeks. Close at his heels followed Bellingham, his fat, unhealthy face all quivering with malignant passion. "You fool!" he hissed. "You'll be sorry." "Very likely," cried the other.
Smith gave a cheer for his friend, and pulling out his watch, was starting off again for his chambers, when he felt a touch upon his shoulder, and found that young Monkhouse Lee was beside him. "I saw you there," he said, in a timid, deprecating way. "I wanted to speak to you, if you could spare me a half-hour. This cottage is mine. I share it with Harrington of King's.
While Mr Banks was gathering plants near the watering-place, I went with Dr Solander and Mr Monkhouse to the head of the bay, that I might examine that part of the country, and make farther attempts to form some connection with the natives.
After this they were permitted to stroll about, and received many tokens of amity in the shape of green boughs, and were then entertained at a banquet, the principal dishes being fish and bread-fruit. Whilst at dinner, Solander had his pocket picked of an opera glass, and Monkhouse lost his snuff-box.
At first Mr Banks fired, and merely wounded the man, who was still retreating, when Mr Monkhouse took a more fatal aim, and he dropped, and another piece being fired, the savages at length fell back.
Monkhouse winked his red lashless lids, and meditated the while, as he pressed the juice of an orange into the third of a cup of white rum, and stirred in a handful of soggy brown sugar. "Hark to you, boy come closer," he whispered presently. "Nothin' that sails in these par-rts can scrape the paint of the Savonarola. At the same time, you can do nothin' by stayin' ashore. What's the puzzle?
Monkhouse were taking a walk, they happened to meet with the Body of the Man we had shott, as the Natives made them fully understand; the manner in which the body was interred being a little extraordinary. I went to-day, with some others, to see it.
"H'm well, I don't hold any brief for Chicago I suppose Chicago is the target so I won't defend that. But I've heard stories." "Queer ones, I should say." "Devilish queer ones!... How about that young Monkton or Monkhouse who dropped out of things last winter?" Falconer looked annoyed. "Oh, there are rumors "